The Phantom Blogger

Thoughts in a cemetery

2012-01-18T15:18:00.000+13:00

Yesterday I spent about an hour wandering around our city cemetery. I go there fairly often, but rarely spend so much time, but my car was getting new horseshoes nearby and I had several hours to fill in.

It's a curious thing, the cemetery. Ours is in sections - the Old Part, with the big marble and concrete memorials; the Newer Lawn Cemetery; the lovely Rose Garden where those cremated are commemorated by plaques; the bright but depressing still-born and infant garden, and the Returned Services lawn cemetery. There is a big white cross denoting the graves of Marist Priests, and a white marble memorial for the Sisters of St Joseph. It's a peaceful place, on the edge of the city.

They are all there. Every name you can think of, and a few you never would. Isaac, Cornelius, Mary, Hezekiah, Constance, Albert, Sione, Shirley, Barbara, Catherine, Raymond, and one with Chinese (?) characters which spoke of a person far from home. They died stillborn, a few hours, some years, young adults, right up to 104 years. There could be older, I didn't look at them all. The oldest tomb I saw was 1894, the newest had a mourning party and hearse gathered while I was there. I didn't see any with occupations listed, and only a few had cause of death. "Airplane accident". "Childbirth".
Most of them were, no doubt, good people. But there would be the odd bad - even evil - person, because in the end, whoever we are, we all die.

It seems strange to think that we will all end up there, and no matter who we've been, or what we've done, we'll be recorded by a tomb, a plaque. Many of the old stones were illegible. Some had been recently upgraded - maybe as a result of a family reunion? I visited my friend Clare, and of course Jim, and found Dad's (after all these years, his is still never quite where I think it's going to be - 3rd row? 2nd? they DO all look alike in the RSA lawn part!). I found a recently buried family friend in the old part, a new marker squeezed (so it seemed) between two very old tombs. Had he bought his plot 60 years ago? Or have the Council decided that there are some graves purchased so long ago that the owner has obviously been buried somewhere else and is now reselling them?
A cortege arrived at the crematorium, so I moved to another section. It's probably a place where there's activity most days.

And it makes me wonder why I worry about so many small things. No doubt many of those people there did too. In the end, what really matters? The plaques and monuments don't tell the story. How many of those people struggled financially? How many lived with illness? With sadness at the death of a child or of someone they loved whom they thought would have lived much longer? With disappointment at the choices made by a loved family member?

The only things that really matter are the memories left in the hearts of family and friends. The remembrances that will be handed down and talked about when those they knew get together.

But it's good to wander in a cemetery on a lovely sunny day, and read the inscriptions and wonder about the people. It's an extension of our community, it's part of us.

Cherry Bowl

2012-01-13T12:48:00.001+13:00

This morning a man came up my drive, and presented me with a beautiful wooden bowl. Not the sort of thing that happens every day, in fact I'd go so far to say that it's never happened before and is unlikely to again. A sort of once in a lifetime event really.

Four years ago, I had an ornamental cherry tree chopped down, and someone (and for the life of me I have no idea who - maybe the person who chopped it? who was......??!) suggested that if I didn't want the timber, they knew of a man who did woodturning who would appreciate it.

The tree was an ugly thing in the winter, having been pruned so that it had no branches except at the top, but in the summer it was a glorious umbrella.

Daughter #1's pre-wedding photos taken under it, show it at the far left.

It had a lovely big straight trunk, and apparently the woodturner, George was delighted with it.

Today he brought me a bowl he'd made from it, and there is something inestimably special about having a beautiful bowl made from a tree that used to grow in one's own garden.

Thank you George, and may 2012 be a prosperous and happy year for you!

RIP Carmen

2011-12-15T18:50:00.001+13:00

Although I haven't spared Carmen a thought for years, her passing requires a moment of respectful silence. And some memories. Not that I ever met her. But back in the late 60s, my then boss told me how, while in Wellington, he'd gone into a nightclub, and got the surprise of his life to be greeted by one of the lads he'd gone to school with in Tauramunui, looking - well - not as Keith had expected!! Trevor Rupe had become Carmen, larger than life, and a successful business person.

Over the next decade, Carmen spearheaded human rights campaigns and wherever her name was mentioned, there was always the comment about how kind she was, how she looked out for vulnerable people to protect them, how she was savvy, witty, intelligent and a good friend.

Many of the issues she fought for have now been passed into our human rights law.
New Zealand - and particularly Wellington - of the 1960s was apparently (I was too young to be involved!) a much better and more colourful place because of her and her friends.

Rest in peace Carmen.

Eating up the highway

2011-07-25T12:44:00.009+12:00

The most delicious lunch has prompted me to meditate on the excellent eating-places between Hastings and Wellington, and to share my recommendations for the edification of other travellers.

Firstly, starting in the middle of the map, and elevated thereto by its excellence, is my newest discovery. The Windfarm Bakery and Cafe, Woodville, make their own pies and bread, and the most exceptional Pork Spareribs rolls. These are on a fresh, soft, cheese roll, with salad and generous amount of spareribs pork, and tasty sauce. A lovely pot of green tea, and one is set up for the rest of the trip. I've stopped there twice now, and it's my new Woodville stop.

So now back to my starting point, and let's travel up the country.
For quite a few years now, my favourite first stop for refreshment after leaving Wellington, has been The Olde Plum Duff Cafe in Shannon. This has a wonderful sunny garden, with plenty of wooden benches and tables, and many is the time I've relaxed in the sun there. Excellent clean toilets with baby-changing facilities, and most importantly, all their yummy food being made on the premises. However, these hardworking people need one day off a week, and if I happen to travel through on a Monday, then I am forced to look for sustenance elsewhere. (With thanks to Kete Horowhenua for the pic)

The Horseman's Cafe is my second choice, again great food and a loo, but somewhat uneven flooring means it's a good idea to keep one's eyes on where one's walking! Outside tables in the sun and horsey things which would indicate that it is in fact, the cafe of a horseman, give it a point of interest (even for one such as me who thinks horses are way too big and their teeth positively scary...)!

Up the Island, through the Gorge, and that deserves a break. Woodville. Cafe 88 at the northern end of the town has been my stopping point for some years. It's a busy place, I've been there when tourist buses have pulled up outside and been glad I'd already got my food and a table! Again, outside tables and indoor loo make it attractive.
But as I noted earlier, I've found a replacement for 88. The Windfarm Bakery and Cafe is only a couple of doors south of 88, and for some reason seems "undiscovered". Excellent, pleasant service and fabulous food mean it probably won't stay that way for long! Public loo is only on the other side of the block.

If you can make it past Woodville, then you could feel completely justified in stopping for a cuppa at Matamau Diner, seven kilometres north of Dannevirke. I actually had to look up the name of this place, because I'd always thought of it by its banner "all day breakfasts". It's a popular truck stop, which is always a good reference for food and service, and I'd be very happy to stop here again any time. Nice friendly family people too. And of course, a loo.

Heading through Central Hawkes Bay and getting close to Hastings, there are two places definitely worth a stop. The township of Otane boasts two lovely ladies, who make a steak pie that's worth travelling there especially for! Certainly worth a detour off State Highway 2 - McCauley's Store and Cafe on Higginson St, you can't miss it!

On another trip (because you truly won't want to be enjoying all this delicious food in the time it takes you to get from Shannon or Wellington to Hastings!) you might like to stop at the Paper Mulberry Cafe, at Te Aute. Just across the Highway from the famed Te Aute College, is an old church of purplish hue, where the most delicious food, again, made on the premises can be found. You'll want to linger here - in the winter there's a lovely fire, and arts and crafts for sale adorn the walls. The whole place is eclectic and artistic, and a wonderful way to while away a few hours in the winter!

Hastings, and home. But - gosh it's almost dinner time! We've lingered over food enough today, so now we want to pick up something yummy and nourishing, quickly. Whip into Cafe Anatolia for the very best Turkish cuisine, carry it home and enjoy it with your feet up. It's been a busy day after all!

P.S. - Oh I can't leave out a mention of Benedict's at Maungaraki. Lower Hutt! I've never seen such a child-friendly place! Probably a third of the floor space is a play area for the kids, with exciting play equipment and room to run. They serve "fluffies" - frothed milk in miniature cups and saucers for the little ones, and jolly delicious cakes and other food for the big ones. A roaring fire, and room to spread out the paper or breastfeed the baby, makes this a meeting place par excellence!

In laws

2011-06-23T17:24:00.007+12:00

In-laws and the state of being one have been on my mind of late. Met up with a sister-in-law for a coffee (or in my case green tea) and tapped her wealth of experience of being a mother-in-law to a daughter-in-law. Sons-in-law have proved delightful, and am sure the soon to be DIL will too. But it's quite a different relationship, and one I'm just learning about.
Being a MIL is the fodder of stand-up comics and Reader's Digest jokes, because in truth, the state of melding with another whanau brings its own joys and difficulties. Often it's the differences between the way one family did things and the in-law family's customs, especially in families where the customs and traditions are strong, for it can be easy for her to think of her way as the right or only or best way, while the "new addition" to the whanau just sees strange or different - or wrong! - ways.

Mothers-in-law have long endured bad press, surely much more than warranted. But I guess where the matriarch is the keeper of the customs, the one who hands down the flow of traditions to the next generation, she can easily feel threatened by the fresh current diluting the power of shared history and way of doing things. And if she had any control over her son, she can kiss that goodbye as well. It's been many years since I've had that, so not one of my losses!

Having been a DIL myself, (my MIL was a lovely loving lady with whom I got on famously) I'm conscious of the need not to appear critical - there are things I could say to my own daughters which might sound fault-finding to someone brought up in a different family, used to the dialogue being - well - different.

So I guess it's live and let live, even if I think things might be better done a different way, bite the tongue, avoid racing into e-print on fb, and pray that she feels as truly welcome in our whanau as she is.

Heading for adventure...

2011-03-22T15:41:00.006+13:00

I've booked a flight to Brisbane - and return. That's pretty big for me. In fact, so unusual is it that I've booked it in stages, not realising I could make one booking from my provincial airport internationally, as I know the big planes don't fly out of Napier. However, next time I'll just book Napier-Brisbane. So it's a learning experience already and the booking hasn't even hit my credit card statement online yet.

I'm in the process of renewing my passport, I figure that shouldn't take too many months as I've already had one, but it's been extinct for about eight years. I'm not sure what colour I put down last time for my eyes - and I think it's meant to be the same. I'm really not sure what colour they actually are! As a child I remember Dad telling me they were "hazel" so I've always used that, and in fact probably did on my original passport application, but to be honest, I don't think they are. But I don't know what I'd put if it wasn't that - grey/green? - so I'll probably go with hazel.

It's exciting! I'm going to have an adventure! (if I don't get lost at Auckland airport getting from Domestic to International and get left behind!! Not that I've booked the domestic flights yet, I'll see what comes up on grabaseat!)

And next on my fairly short list of adventures to be planned is Whanganui. I want to go up the river to Taumarunui - a four day trip which involves pole-vaulting (well nearly!!! - poling anyway!) the boat UP rapids! I'd also like to do the three day trip back down again, but it probably won't be in the same week. Unless I win lotto...

And I'd like to go back to Stewart Island and stay for a week. The Foveaux Strait crossing is a fantastic boat trip, and I was very happy to do it twice in a day when I went last time, but next time I want to spend more time there.

So, not a bucket list, but just some adventures in the pipeline.
First up - Brisbane in an NZ winter!

Bizarre shopping

2011-01-16T14:10:00.006+13:00

I've never been to a Mumbai bazaar, but I expect it's a little like shopping at Spotlight in Hastings. I've had so many experiences of taking things up to the counter only to be told their price is different from that on the sign (which is fine with bathmats or zips which you can just walk away from, a little trickier with fabric they've cut specially for you) that I now approach it like an overseas shopping adventure. I'm honing my haggling skills for the day when I find myself in a genuine street market.

All the fabric in Spotlight lies on tables, and you have to heft the bolts and lug them round the shop and stand in one of the slowest moving queues in the universe, while the two or three assistants discuss curtains and their fabric requirements (or patterns or children's clothes - all good stuff, and necessary, but more assistants would be extremely helpful) with other shoppers.
Today's fun went like this.
I start off at the SALE table. Big signs declaring: "All suitings $1 a metre" "All shirtings $2 metre" "Dry knits $5 metre"
And you know, you just know, that most of the fabric on those tables will not show up on the scanner at those prices.
So.
How seriously do I want this fabric?
Can I be bothered haggling for the price that the sign tells me it is?

Yep, for $1 a metre (only 1.5 for a pair of trousers for me) I can be bothered.

But I've learned to start the dialogue before the cutting begins. Just in case you get an assistant who seriously doesn't care what the sign says.

Me: This was on your sales table.
Her: This one isn't on sale.
Me; How much is this a metre?
Her: (scanning it) $19.95
Me: Right, I won't have that one.
She's had a win, this will make her more surprised and less certain when I dig my toes in for the one I really want. I'm aware that I could insist on the signed price.
I heft up another bolt. Probably weighs about ten kg. I think of it as weight training.
Me: How much is this one?
Her: (scanning it) It's reduced to $8 metre
Me: The sign said $1 metre for suitings, and the label says it's a suiting.
(Meanwhile the queue of people hefting massive bolts of fabric collectively shifts from one foot to another. Men sigh audibly. Women slouch against the tables of upholstery fabric. This is the only fabric shop in Hastings, a city of around 70,000 people.)
Her: (scanning it again) It says $8.
Me: It was on the $1 table.
Her: Would you like me to check? (I'm not sure if she's being sarcastic. The shop is busy. Does she think I'll say Oh no, don't bother?)
Me: Would you? That would be great.
(Interminable minutes pass. Has she gone for a coffee?
No here she is, bearing the sign! Why, I'm not sure...)
Her: Yes, it's $1 metre. How much do you want?

And so on.
I stand in that queue with my several bolts every few months, knowing that it won't be too many years ahead that it will all be physically beyond me.
I guess then I'll just shop online.

Treasures and blessings

2010-12-17T12:17:00.004+13:00

Was thinking of Sister Felicitas today. She taught me in Std 6 (Year 8) and when we met over 20 years later, she asked me (as you do) what I was doing with my life.
Laughing, she reminded me that when we were talking about careers, I'd said I wanted to get married and have lots of children! I guess I must have, don't remember saying it though. But she was visibly taken aback to be told I'd achieved my goal - I was married with five children. She thought that a tad excessive!!

It wasn't my only goal, but it was the one that has defined me, made me happy and given me a sense of fulfillment like nothing else. I've never become immune to the awe of new life. To the amazement of pregnancy. To the wonder of watching little children work things out, make discoveries and practice their skills (socially acceptable and otherwise!!) To the scariness of letting them go, to work out for themselves about personal responsibility in the big world.

It's a curious thing to achieve a life goal. Time doesn't stop at that point - it's the living the goal that makes it worthwhile.

But looking back, I can see that as with anything in life, we become who we are, not in the good times so much as by the mucking things up, getting it wrong, despairing of knowing what to do, having another try, asking for help, and eventually getting through the dark times. I have learnt that nothing - no experience - was ever wasted.

And now I have an unlooked-for gift that certainly wasn't any part of my plan back when I was 12 and in Sister Felicitas's class, or even when meeting her when I had a young family.

Now, I have the most amazing grandchildren!

They are SO gorgeous! SO clever! SO pleased to see me! SO cute! SO hard to understand on the phone! (except I can always understand when they say "I love you Nana!"

Indeed I can say with Mary, "Of all women, I am most blessed!"

Art Installation

2010-11-21T07:37:00.009+13:00

This is my fabulous new bird bath, my Object d'Art entitled "Bird Bath". Love it!

Terracotta top on a piece of recycled demolition stormwater pipe (PVC?) painted with a test pot of Resene "Tuscany" and dug about a metre into the ground.

Poetry in Hell

2010-11-02T17:50:00.003+13:00

On 1 September 1939, near the start of World War II, the German Army invaded Poland, and a month later Poland had capitulated and the country was in German hands.
The immediate task of the occupiers was to gather the Jews together - to "concentrate" them. They were brought in from the countryside and concentrated in ghettos, which, by November 1940, were sealed.

In the summer of 1943, in the Maidanek concentration camp Isaac Schiper told a fellow inmate that

Everything depends on who transmits our testament to future generations, on who writes the history of this period.

And in that camp, a group of 60 Jews organised themselves to write the history of the time, and also to attempt to preserve the poetry of their people.

Much of their work was lost. But much of it was also dug up years later - some was able to be preserved and is held as the Warsaw Ghetto Ringelblum Archives. From this has emerged "Poetry in Hell" - work that was sealed in milk cans and withstood being buried, lost and found many years later. At least one can is still missing, probably now under the Chinese Embassy in Warsaw.

This is an awesome testament to the human spirit, a testament to a people who saw plainly that the occupying nation intended to wipe them out, and who no doubt kept their hearts alight with the task of writing and saving their lore. More than 25,000 documents were found, probably at least as many more were hidden but lost.

Check out this site, and pay tribute for a moment to a people who were nearly annihilated but did everything in their power to save their culture.

Dating in the dark

2010-10-22T18:14:00.004+13:00

Tonight another episode in "Dating in the Dark" plays. It's a curious and strangely sad programme, said to be a "social experiment" and which doesn't bear as much similarity to bizarre shows like "The Batchelor" as I thought it might. Three men and three women, aged between 20 and 40, are brought together in a house for a weekend, but the women only see each other, as do the men. They all meet in pitch blackness where they chat, and back in the daylight they decide which of the three they haven't seen they would like to have a "date" with - in the dark.

The dates take place, and then a forensic personality-typer comes into the mix and gets each of the six to complete a detailed questionnaire, after which he lets them know which of the others they are most likely to have a successful relationship with. In the two episodes I've watched, all then chose to go on another date in the dark with this most-likely person, and all of them decided there was indeed "chemistry" between them.

They then decide which of the three they would like to see. In the light. Nothing is said as the two go into the blackness, and the light comes on to them one at a time. Back to darkness, and then back to the lounge where they agonise - do they actually want to go on a real date with this person?

And of the two programmes - 6 couples in total - 50%, after having been wowed by the personality of the person chose to walk away instead of meeting the person face to face, so disappointed were they by their looks.
I am staggered - as much as one can be by a reality TV programme masquerading as a "social experiment" - by the superficiality of these people. None of them is ugly, (or even strange looking) but obviously they appear so to these participants who can't even bring themselves to meet with them in the daylight and see how things progress.

Will I watch it again tonight?
MMmmmmm no probably not.
But it is sort of fascinating, in a watching a shark bite a swimmer's leg off way.

Worst headline of the week

2010-10-20T16:26:00.002+13:00

This week's award goes to Lane Nichols (do reporters write their own headlines?) of the Dominion Post for "Capital Goes Green and Cuddly" over a report on the mayoralty of Wellington being won by Celia Wade-Brown. Celia is a member of the Greens (yay!) but there's not a thing in the article that could refer even obliquely to cuddly. Stupid headline.

Sewing - How to mitre a corner

2010-09-26T14:20:00.010+13:00

I've finally worked out a relatively easy way to mitre a corner, so am posting it here, not only in the hope it might help someone else, but so I can find it again after I've forgotten how I did it.

First mark out the size of your cloth and press up the hem. I'll refer to this as the "hem fold" in future.

Next measure the depth of your hem, and press in the raw edge. If your fabric is "springy", you'll need to baste this (stitch with large stitches to hold it - basting can easily be pulled out later), as it must remain folded.

Turn your fabric over to the right side, and put a pin at the corner. It's really important you don't lose the corner.

Now bring the hem folds each side of the corner pin together. Don't worry, you're not really going to join them, this is just to work out the angle of the mitre. Making sure they're exactly aligned, pin them on the inside of the hem fold. It should look something like this.

Now, turn along that pin line, and pin the hem allowance at the same angle. This is your sewing line.

Sew from the corner pin to the edge, over the folded or basted raw edge fold. Backstitch or lockstitch.

Finally, remove any remaining pins, trim the seam, turn inside out (which is actually right side out) and you're ready to hem with a very tidy mitred corner!

Australian elections - my personal smile......

2010-08-23T17:38:00.008+12:00

While Julia and Tony elbow each other away from the phones, each more determined than the other to offer the best deal to the Independent and Green MPs, two things give me cause for hope and reason to punch air with a YES!

Firstly, it's the Greens who are being courted. Fantastic. There was an overall 3.6% swing towards the Greens, more power to their policies!

But the most delicious irony (for me) is the likely election of Ken Wyatt in the Western Australian seat of Hasluck.

Some years ago, we spent a couple of weeks in Western Australia, and were shocked by the open racism. Not whispered comments, not said behind the hand, not with any sense that others mustn't hear me say this, but blatantly anti-Asian, and proudly dismissive of Aboriginal people as "animals". I was gutted. Totally.

Ken Wyatt is Aboriginal. He's likely to be the member for a Western Australian seat. God I hope he wins!

Outrageous Fortune - who dies?

2010-07-11T14:15:00.003+12:00

So what do you think happened?
We'll know in a few days, but there we were, with the last episode of last series, and Cheryl has whacked Gerard on the head with a bottle, and followed it up with the broken bottle in the neck move, and as he slowly fell down the side of the house leaving blood on the paintwork and clutching his neck, out he pulls his gun and shoots..... who?

Word on the street is that one of the major players dies.
Who do you think it is?

Cheryl was in frame, and appeared obvious, and so therefore I don't think it's her. She's also the kingpin of the series, and the characters' relationships really need Cheryl as the cog in the centre.

Eric arrived on the scene and is quite expendable, but that's a bit clumsy for OF - it's a much smoother show than that.

Pascalle?
Van or Jethro?
Munter?
Falani?
Kasey?

There are quite a few possibilities, but my pick is Hayden Peters.
Killing him off on his wedding day is OF style, and he's far too happy. And for that matter so is Loretta. Killing off Hayden would give Loretta a new reason to sow a bit of havoc.....

Your scenario?

Rights: Voting and Smoking in Prison

2010-07-03T09:24:00.011+12:00

A comment by Simon Bridges (Nat MP, Tauranga) during a debate on smoking in prisons, that the Electoral Act relating to prisoners was being "tweaked" made me nervous - we have to be very careful that we don't get carried away with our power to deny civil rights to any member or section of the community. Currently our law in this regard (voting) meets even my high standards of inclusiveness, and I see no need for extra exclusions as suggested by the bill currently being debated.

The difference between Human Rights and Civil Rights is especially important for those in these exclusion groups (those sentenced to prison for more than three years, or compulsory patients in hospitals or secure facilities for more than three years) some civil rights of whom may have been suspended, and constant vigilance is required to ensure their human rights are protected.

Which is a nice segue to the issue of smoking in prisons.

On a tangent, Judith Collins was completely unbelievable in her role as caring mother of the prisons, desiring to protect the health of all who live and work there. (I more readily see her with boots and whip, men in shackles cowering at her ankles....) The actual reason she wants to ban cigs from prisons could quite well be an edict from her leader Lovable John, who has a talent for coming up with positive new ways to be noticed by his peers internationally. But, for whatever reason, should smoking in prisons be banned?

Well of course it should. Absolutely. Smoking should be banned fullstop. Everywhere.
However, to single out prisons smacks of punitivity.
If smoking is to be banned in prisons, it should be banned in the community as well.
Allowing tobacco to continue to be sold in the community is crazy beyond words. An article in the British Medical Journal gives a 13:1 cost/benefit ratio for smoking. That means that for every $1 gained in tobacco tax, $13 has to be spent on associated health issues. Of course the addiction has to be addressed. Of course stopping is more than just not smoking. Smoking kills. No longer do even the tobacco companies deny this. And still tobacco products are openly sold. It's bizarre beyond words.

Before this turns into a full-throated rant about our right not to be exploited for commercial gain, best I go find something else to do.......

Pete Bethune on trial in Tokyo for boarding a vessel that had rammed and sunk his......

2010-05-28T14:37:00.006+12:00

During Sea Shepherd’s 2009-2010 Antarctic Whale Defense Campaign: Operation Waltzing Matilda, Captain Pete Bethune was volunteering his services as skipper of the Ady Gil. On January 6, 2010, the much larger and more maneuverable Japanese whaling vessel Shonan Maru No. 2 deliberately rammed and split the Ady Gil in two, then hosed its crew members down with water cannons as they scrambled for safety amongst the wreckage. As the Ady Gil began to take on water, the Shonan Maru No. 2 ignored Sea Shepherd’s multiple requests for assistance. As a New Zealand citizen, Captain Bethune was empowered under New Zealand law to serve a citizen’s arrest warrant on the captain of the Shonan Maru No. 2 for the sinking of his vessel and the attempted murder of himself and his crew. On January 15, 2010, Captain Bethune made his first attempt to serve the Shonan Maru No. 2 with a citizen’s arrest, but he was unable to complete the service. On February 15, 2010, Captain Bethune made a second attempt, and this time, he was able to successfully board the Shonan Maru No. 2 to deliver his citizen’s arrest warrant, along with an invoice for the loss of the Ady Gil. However while on board the Japanese ship, he was arrested and taken back to Japan where he's been held for 100 days, and is now currently on trial on five charges.

The charges are:
trespass, possession of a weapon, injury to persons, damage to property and obstructing commercial activity.
He is pleading not-guilty to all charges, as he contends he was stopping an illegal operation and was in fact serving a Citizen's Arrest. Interesting to note that although Japan is killing whales for "scientific purposes", Bethune and Sea Shepherd got in their way and now Bethune is charged with "obstructing COMMERCIAL activity".

And so it's easy to understand that the whaling interests of Japan would like him handled punitively, and I see this case as a test of how honourable the Japanese courts are in administering international law. Which they themselves are flouting by whaling.

Paul Watson of Sea Shepherd, said this morning on Breakfast, that he didn't know of a case in maritime law where a captain had deliberately rammed another vessel at sea, or where a ship had been sunk - intentionally or accidentally - by a ship of another country, and the country of the damaged ship has done nothing. The Ady Gil was a NZ registered vessel with a NZ crew, skippered by a New Zealander and NZ has done nothing to question the captain of the Japanese vessel at fault.

I'm not so presumptive that I think I know everything that's going on in the halls of power. I hope there ARE diplomatic discussions taking place behind closed doors, and that NZ is in fact allowing Japan to save face and "come to their own decision" to give a suspended or other appropriate sentence and release Bethune.

It was a bloody heroic thing he did.
And then maybe we could look at what charges the Captain of the Shonan Maru No. 2 might face?

links:
Background
Charges

Enjoying the signs...

2010-05-20T18:14:00.002+12:00

My doctor's waiting room and consulting rooms are wonderfully entertaining. Just by looking around I can get an idea of some of the things that have happened since I was last there. It's pretty obvious he has a bit of an obsession with signs, and it seems that any one person behaving in a way he doesn't want a repeat of, will initiate a Sign to Warn Others.

For years we've had the usual "IF YOU DON'T TURN UP TO YOUR APPOINTMENT YOU WILL BE CHARGED" and "PLEASE TREAT THIS TOILET WITH RESPECT" (that one's in the toilet, not the waiting room, and saw me bowing three times before I used the loo). Then there was the addition of a whole series about the scales - these were two to each consulting room and I could only surmise that there'd been a bit of an outbreak of hyperactive children in need of a trampoline.... "NO ONE IS TO STAND ON THESE SCALES WITHOUT A NURSE PRESENT" and 'DO NOT TOUCH THESE SCALES UNLESS INSTRUCTED TO'. There are plenty of others, the walls are a bit of a boring patchwork of these white A4 laminated works.

Life in the waiting room got a bit boring until the "WE WILL NOT TOLERATE ABUSIVE BEHAVIOUR, SPEECH OR GESTURES TO THE NURSE, THE RECEPTIONIST OR THE DOCTOR". Hmmm. Someone hadn't liked their diagnosis? More likely they got sick of the waiting time....
The "CHEWING GUM IS FORBIDDEN ON THESE PREMISES" spoke of efforts involved in scraping the stuff off the floor, and I could see their point. Likewise the 'DO NOT USE OUR RUBBISH BINS FOR NAPPIES'.

Today's one was a touch different, and replaced some of the others, so important it was.
"TOE AND FINGER NAILS ARE NOT TO BE CUT IN THE WAITING ROOM. THIS IS DISGUSTING BEHAVIOUR AND ANYONE CUTTING THEIR TOE OR FINGER NAILS WILL BE ASKED TO LEAVE AND NEVER ALLOWED TO RETURN. OTHER PATIENTS AND OUR STAFF FIND THIS HABIT DISGUSTING."

So that must have been an interesting moment, but does it necessitate signs for the whole world, almost all of whom don't cut their nails in this doctor's waiting room? Could a simple word in the ear of the offender not have done the trick?
But on the other hand, then I would never had had that delicious moment of reading it and visualising the disgusting event!

Getting satisfaction..

2010-05-06T16:59:00.014+12:00

In the last two hours, I have

1. collected a load of bricks ($20 on TradeMe), seen here next to the load of stones I got a month or so ago. Both required for the same project, which will make my berry patch (blueberries and at the moment one singular cranberry/guava bush which I hope soon to be part of a group of the same. So yummy!) more efficient when the bird netting goes up in summer.
2. Sprayed the lemon tree, the mandarin and the lime with Conqueror Oil to protect them over the winter.
(Mandarin in front, lime to the far left - these are just baby trees, but both have already produced fruit - and gnarled aged lemon tree to the right.)
3. Dug up the last of the bricks which had formed a garden edging but which I realised I hadn't seen for over five years.... yep they were there, about half a spade head deep in the ground! They too will be part of my berry patch edging. Hopefully not to sink..
and
4. Chopped down a 7 year old lime tree which has never flowered or fruited. I was about to give it one more year, mindful of the Biblical parable where Jesus told the man with the nonproductive fig tree to prune it and give it one more year, but when I asked my colleague who has great experience in orcharding about it, she said "it's not the root stock that's growing is it? Are you sure it's the graft?" Which when translated proved to be the case. The flowering fruiting lime had been grafted on to some citrus rootstock, but a close inspection of the lower part of the truck showed the scar where the graft had been, and the rootstock which had been split for the graft had grown together at the top of it, and had formed a tree that was never going to fruit. We have transplanted that tree, hoping it just needed a "better position", it has been pruned, fed.... Well now it is in the wheelie bin!

So all in all, a very satisfying couple of hours!
This food production isn't all about seedlings, there is some munty work to be done with the pruning saw, which I have to admit I find immensely satisfying!, and some good water-ish play to be done with the sprayer on the trees. All good fun.
But on the subject of seedlings, look at my very healthy Brussels Sprouts! Mmmmm looking forward to a feast in a few months' time!

Rising prices

2010-04-28T16:12:00.003+12:00

And so Telecom have joined Tower Insurance and almost every other company that bills me regularly, to tell me that because of inflation and rising costs, my wiring contract with them will have the monthly charge increased.

I would so love to write them a letter in similar vein.

This is to let you know that as from 1 June, I will be paying 95% of your account each month, which you should consider as full payment. You will understand this situation has been brought about by rising costs and inflation.
Yours faithfully,

An alternative weekend

2010-04-12T13:30:00.004+12:00

Just back from two days away with a car-load of friends, living with a couple who "walk lightly on the earth". They live in a very peaceful part of the country, and from their gate they can see Mt Ngauruhoe, and on a clear day (with which we were blessed) also Mt Taranaki, looking like a pyramid in the distance. We were shown our tea cooking in a "hot box" - it had been started on the stove for 5 minutes in a pressure cooker, and then the whole cooker placed in a beautifully made wooden box, lined with polystyrene and insulated around and over the top with a thick wad of wool insulation, finished off with a sheepskin on top. The meat cooks with only that first bit of power, and after a day in the box came out very tender and well cooked. We did use the hob for the vegetables, and a wonderful log fire heated the house as the sun went down. There is a pine forest around the house which is providing firewood and being replaced with native trees. The sight of Ernst's logs piled so beautifully between the trees made me regret - and not for the last time - that I didn't take my camera.

The house is constructed in such a way that it will take advantage of "passive heating" - the beautiful pebbled-concrete floor absorbs heat during the day from the floor to ceiling double-glazed windows, and gradually gives it off in the cooler hours. Water is collected from the rain, and heated by solar panels. With power bills of $20-30 a month, and a lovely warm feeling in the house, it obviously works! I think I would miss the microwave and tv, and the odd roast in the oven, but the next night the outdoor pizza oven was fired up, and after the wood burnt down to charcoal, that was removed (to go in the compost) and we made our own pizzas on Ernst's handmade dough bases. After they were cooked, his five loaves of handmade bread went in for an hour, and then four date and walnut loaves. A casserole could easily have gone in overnight to take advantage of the remaining heat, and often they do that.

Companion planting and copious composting helps Ann's vegetables grow well without pesticides, and the use of comfrey and other herbs keeps everything healthy. Two chooks provide eggs and early morning wake up calls!

It was a wonderful weekend, so peaceful away from traffic and other noise, and we were welcomed warmly and made very much at home. I hope they were serious about their "please do come again!"

Waihopai Act III

2010-04-08T11:37:00.002+12:00

I tend to agree with Peter Murnane that the people of NZ would support the Waihopai 3 if the Crown sued them for damages. It would be interesting to see, in these straitened times, how much the people would contribute to the "$1m" of damage. I think it would be well covered. I think there would be some large donations in there too.

A cappella

2010-03-24T17:12:00.003+13:00

Captivated by the music of the terms "sostenuto" and "molto legato" and "quasi pizzicato" at choir last night. Such gorgeously sounding words!
Loving a pot plant that can go without water for months, droops suddenly (or maybe I suddenly noticed!) and is revived by standing in a roasting dish of water overnight, to look as if it's been well tended all its life!
Riding several km on the bike track after work before coming home. Probably the only perq of the job, but it's a good one!

Big Ups to Obama

2010-03-24T07:45:00.003+13:00

I can hardly believe USA has done it! Voted in health care insurance for everyone regardless of existing conditions. The devil will be in the fine print, and the fact that it will provide health care for "95%" of Americans..... what about the other 5%? But wow, fantastic! Maybe the world isn't as dented in the head as I'd feared!

Michael Bolton on the stereo first thing in the morning. In fact music at any time!

Hearing the advocate for beneficiaries say this morning that it's a full time job being a mum on the DPB. Sure must be - no money to pay for all the extras, so to do it well there must be an awful lot of making do and doing it yourself. Would like to think they're growing their own veg and making their own clothes (or remaking - you can pick up stuff at Op Shops that needs a bit of a make-over). Now I'd like to hear of someone coming up with the 64,000 jobs required to make Paula Bennett's plan work.

What was that? Wahoo Waihopai!

2010-03-18T15:56:00.004+13:00

The Waihopai Three were acquited of all charges - almost unbelievable, but there you go.
Judged by a jury of their peers obviously!
We who stopped nuclear subs coming into our waters haven't been overcome by the seriously money-focused instant-everything generation. (A gross generalisation. You know if this doesn't mean you! [Especially my very own children!]) We are still the country who can protest efficiently and peacefully. And successfully.
Bravo all involved!

Isn't the telephone the most wonderful invention! Have just had a lovely chat with a darling daughter, it was as if I was present in her home. Such a gift!

Snuggly duvets on suddenly cold nights. Mmmmm! And electric blankets!

Action Bins Day

2010-03-17T14:55:00.004+13:00

Every second Wednesday is bin day, the day I feel in control of this monstrous piece of land and its encroaching flora as all the results of the weeding, mowing, cutting and living of the last fortnight disappear into the bowels of a big red white and black truck, unambiguously labelled "THE BIN MAN". I'm at the beginning of the run, and have been asked to have my bin out by 7.30 a.m. which is no problem.
Except this morning, I overslept. Must have been all the work I did at Choir last night. Woke about 7.30, watched the news, had breakfast, was about to hit the shower when I remembered the bin. Botheration! thought I, tossing on a robe and racing outside to push it out to the footpath.
No bin.
There it was, already on the footpath.
Huh?
Done it in my sleep?
Left it out last night?
No indeed.
The lovely bin man had seen it up the drive, opened the decidedly noisy gate, wheeled it out, and emptied it for me. Maybe it was the squeak of the gate that had woken me!
You can't beat Action Bins, Locally Owned and Operated!
Love 'em!

After the storm is over...

2010-03-13T11:24:00.003+13:00

Wow what a scary ten minutes last night! A freak storm went through, sounding like a train up the drive. I looked out of the window and the amount of unidentifiable stuff that was flying through the air as high as the tops of the bent trees was mindboggling. And captivating - I couldn't take my eyes off it!

I had no idea of the devastation facing my neighbours as I sat up in bed this morning with a bowl of home made muesli and home made yoghurt, with some home grown apple and home grown blueberries and guava/cranberries! I've been wondering whether it's worth the effort to grow my own vege, and maybe for some things it isn't. But apples and berries - oh yes it is!

A few branches on the lawn made me take a good look and I found part of my fence hanging drunkenly, and when I looked through and along, I realised why. All my next door neighbour's back fence is completely on the ground! Several trees are down, one massive ancient walnut that has shaded four or five properties is under the chainsaw so the homeowners can actually see what lies under it (apart from their clothes line)! I've fared better than any of my immediate neighbours - the ones at the back are likewise missing their fence, also two and half trees and part of their roof. One of their trees that hung over my place has been pruned beautifully in my favour with the prunings on their own lawn! I looked out my front windows at the time of the storm and my plants sitting directly in front of the house were still. So the wind was coming from a south-easterly direction. Directly from Wellington.

A good day today though for the cleanup. A sunny Saturday. Am SO pleased I have missed the worst of it!

All over, Rover

2010-03-10T16:13:00.005+13:00

Sub of the Day for the last couple of nights has been great, tea cooking after a long day of concentration wasn't on the cards. Tonight.... who knows! It's all over, and finished satisfactorily, so it's back to work tomorrow.

The ridiculous idea of erecting a copycat sign on Wellington's hills was pointed out to me by The Morgue and at first I thought it was some sort of misunderstanding or joke. Truly it isn't ....
How soon are the next Wellington Council elections?

It was so nice to start the last few days a bit later than usual! And the concentration required was on something so totally different from my usual matters requiring concentration that in fact it was quite refreshing. Some of the subject matter certainly wasn't, but overall, I'll accept my civic duty to be part of the jury pool next time.

#2 Court Day

2010-03-09T17:56:00.000+13:00

Wonderful roiling waves along the Marine Parade! Perfect spot to blow away cobwebs and get some walking in during the lunch break at court.

Car parked miles away from the court, so more walking. Tomorrow should be the last day, but I've enjoyed the break from everyday life.

A $10 voucher from Spottylight. Trying to woo me back?! I'll use it anyway!

Court Day

2010-03-08T18:40:00.002+13:00

On a jury for the first time, and it not being as dreadful as I'd feared. No idea if he's guilty! Maybe I'll come to some conclusion tomorrow?! Wonder how long it'll go on for.... can't be long....

And my car parked on a 120 min spot all afternoon because there is NO parking within miles of the courthouse, and no ticket attached when I came out. I live in hope that it won't follow me by post...

The later start (at court) each day gives me time to go and have a look around the fabric shops. Or, of course, look for a parking spot and walk the several miles to where I'm meant to be. Tough choice (not!)

Marching on...

2010-03-06T17:17:00.002+13:00

Saturdays when it rains are just perfect for recovering from an exhausting fortnight. Nothing screaming out to be done, not while it's raining!, and a good book and lots of cups of green tea. Nice.

That good book "The Book Thief" by Markus Zuzak. Something very wonderful about the style of the writing.

Checking out sewing patterns on line. Beats trying to get a seat at the pattern counter of a shop I've decided I REALLY don't like - Spottylight staff do their best but there are fewer of them than is sensible, and fewer counters to dump the bolts of fabric one has to heft about the place, and a quick turn with said bolts on one's shoulder is a natty way of whipping buttons or trims onto the floor or knocking another thread-searcher unconscious. I may be forced to shop for fabric in another town, Spotty is so dire here.

March Day Thursday

2010-03-04T18:29:00.006+13:00

Thursday already! Thank heavens! Tiredness from travelling makes me long for a weekend with little to do.
Wonderful few days away - many kilometres away! - at a family wedding. Lots of happy get-together times, lots of laughs, fabulous weather. The West Coast is well known for its high rainfall, but it's never looked so good. The towns are looking very prosperous, don't appear to be suffering from the recession, and I'm told this is because the main industries of gold and coal mining are still working well and big employers. Certainly the hospitality was big and sincere.

Bike Day

2010-02-22T15:13:00.004+13:00

On Friday the new bike track was officially opened by the Prime Minister (Freudian I guess, but every time I type that I have to correct it from Primate Minister).
(Picture shows John Key, PM in the blue helmet, riding with Paul McArdle who donated the three tracks (a .5km one, a skills track and a pump track), the bikes, helmets and professional cyclists to train the kids for 6 months.) Today, for the first time in mumblemany years, after being fitted for my very own helmet, I wheeled out a bike, and would you know, I rode it! First corner was sharper than I'd anticipated, but the wind felt so good and I could have kept riding for the rest of the day. Two circuits of the track is a kilometre, and then... well how to stop? No back pedal brakes.... ooooh slow down, slow down, hand brakes. And I did it! Fantastic! I can ride any time I like now!

Sun Day

2010-02-21T17:41:00.002+13:00

Blueberries and cranberries from my own little bushes in a bowl with my home made muesli and milk. Mmmmm!

Knowing that God has me in His hands, that He loves me, and all will be well.

Air conditioning! A hot humid day.

Ash Wednesday

2010-02-17T17:03:00.003+13:00

A link here by the originator of Three Beautiful Things, Clare, on my post in which I mused about not allowing negativities a mention when pondering on the beautiful moments, has had a few comments. And I agree there's a difference between "in spite of the bad service, I enjoyed the meal..." which gives weight to the negativity, and something which is only beautiful because of the unpleasantness that went before. Clare has a wonderful list of such things, and they are indeed Beautiful Things.
I enjoyed that people commented.

Singing alto against sopranos, tenors and basses - love it!

The lady who approached me as I was loading groceries into my car and told me that she'd seen another vehicle hit mine. A bit more coating off the bumper, not worth doing anything about, but she'd taken the rego. Someone had actually got involved in something when she didn't have to. I hope she has a happy day!

Shrove Tuesday

2010-02-16T17:21:00.002+13:00

Phil the handyman has been and painted my new piece of spouting. All good!

I woke at 6.50 a.m. and knew I wasn't going to make the Catholic Schools' Staff Mass and breakfast at 7 a.m. so didn't try. A colleague woke about the same time and made it and was discombobulated all day. Big tick for the "I don't have to do this!" mentality!

Wore my new jacket to work and got nice comments. And it felt good to wear too.

3BT for a new week

2010-02-15T17:49:00.005+13:00

I've just planted seeds for the winter - leek, carrot, swede, spinach and onion. Such potential abundance! And at this stage, so neat and orderly! Pea straw over the top as a mulch, CDs waving in the breeze to deter the birds, it's the start of the next batch of planting.

And ironed a pile of beautiful serviettes used at our gathering on Friday night. I do like nice napery!

I got my new glasses today too, such a joy to see so clearly again! Brings back memories of some decades ago when new clear vision was an annual event. I've done well, thanks to Lasik surgery!

From the land of Motown...

2010-02-14T15:02:00.003+13:00

- the gates open and ten thousand people sprint to find the best spot in the arena to enjoy the gig. Past me runs a young man, maybe 20 years old, about 6ft 4, and on his shoulder is a roll of carpet. No tarpaulin or picnic rug for him! A picture that made me laugh and still makes me smile!
- the guy behind us who complained to security about our sunshade (five hours before the concert starts but he's sure it'll block his view, even tho we reassure him that we'll take it down - as we do every year - in a couple of hours when the sun loses its heat) comes over and offers one of our party a can of beer. Guess he realised he'd been a dick.
- the clothes both gorgeous and wacky, the costumes and some that could have been dressups or might have been just ordinary bad dress sense...!
- the music that had us all dancing and singing as if we were 18 again!

Musings on my involvement in the 3BT movement and what this means for my health and wellbeing!

2010-02-13T10:04:00.006+13:00

Pondering on joining the "Three Beautiful Things" phenomema, I realised that I often find it easier to muse on problems that need solving rather than the beautiful moments in my day. And I wonder - am I a negative person? Am I really someone about whom others think "oh no here's that depressing person again!" when they see me coming?
Heaven forfend!

So on I go, meditating on the good things in my life, finding the things that were delightful and stopping and pondering them!
(You won't believe how much trouble I had writing that sentence, words such as "but" and "rather than" and "even tho" were desperate to make an appearance. Indicative maybe of negative tendencies.... Hmm....)

So much good in my life, so much to be thankful for!

Today Isaac came round, and to see him pick up big truck sized sockets, and say "wow, this is awesome!" was such a gift. He's a shy Maori man, mid 20s, and he knew what the hitherto unidentified-by-me tools were and what they were used for. And if they were usable. God bless him, he now has a few more than he did before.

Saturday morning, and because I had guests last night, there's no housework to be done today, did it all before they came! (more or less....) I think I'll sit and read before it's time to go a-wassailing!

It's Motime!

2010-02-12T21:40:00.002+13:00

So much fun having good friends over for a meal!

And tomorrow we're off to Motown. Oh yeah there ain't no mountain high enough, woohoo ain't no valley low enough... to keep us from getting to where we heard it thru the grapevine (and I'm just about to lose my mind, honey honey yeah!) cos when I was a little girl I had a rag doll, only doll I ever owned.... Okay, yeah, well, should be fun!

And the anticipation of an afternoon and evening spent in the company of the same good friends. All good. Indeed.

Today's spots....

2010-02-11T19:01:00.002+13:00

Watching Sam step up to the plate..... Sam lives in a busy, complex environment and a lot of self-responsibility is required from him in order to get to school on time and have the necessary books or bring back library books. He's 10 and isn't always organised enough to stand equal with other kids whose parents help them get organised. This year Sam was made student librarian and although I did wonder whether this was just creating another problem for Sam and for me, today they had their training session and I watched him and listened to him and realised with very little guidance, this boy could well have leadership qualities! I'm delighted.
A batch of chocolate chip cookies and another of gingernuts cooling on the bench ready to be packed up and enjoyed at the Motown Mission Concert. Yay!
Finding an apprentice mechanic who would be delighted to have Jim's timing light (and other treasures unusable by me!) Jim would be rapt, he was very good at helping the apprentices with spare tools that he had.

Sunny Sunday

2010-02-07T15:15:00.004+13:00

A cold can of Sprite after a very hot shopping trip with le grandmere.

A bucket of horse poo and bag of mulch waiting till the day cools off to get dug into the garden.

Realising the quirks of said Ancient One don't get under my skin, and are no longer taken personally.

More 3BT

2010-02-06T13:46:00.002+13:00

God bless my good neighbour who saw me with the massive and very impressive two-handed Bosch drill trying to make holes in the letterbox for the new numbers and sent her husband over to do it - two hours and I'd used a nail and hammer, different nail and different hammer, powered screw driver (okay, I thought it was a drill ...), The Drill and one bit that sort of wore out and got shorter, the bit (that apparently was for wood) that I was using when rescued..... who would have thought a sheet steel cheapo letterbox would have been so hard to make holes in!

A letterbox with - after vandals removed the previous adhesive numbers - lovely brass screwed on number!

The first two tomatoes on my cherry tomato plant! Very late, but it hasn't been much of a summer so far.

And the Mission Concert to look forward to next Saturday! Motown! Yay!

The TGIF 3BT

2010-02-05T16:11:00.001+13:00

Well it's Friday!

and there's a weekend just over the brow of a sleep

and there's more American Idol auditions tonight. Best laugh all week!

3BT :)

2010-02-04T18:29:00.002+13:00

The smell of my wonderful garlic crop. It dried on the BBQ table during the day and is now perfuming the shed. Absolutely stunning in almost everything!

Onions that grew despite the weeds and being forgotten. Found them by accident yesterday and harvested 2 dozen lovely big bulbs. Grown from seed, almost free! And I'm told that onions and leeks do well planted where peas have grown, so I'll plant the next lot this weekend.

A freezer, so the surplus beans and corn (hopefully! will check it out on Saturday!) can be stored and used in the coming months.

Fresh veges, out of the ground and into the pot. The taste is superb, and the texture like nothing you get elsewhere. God is good.

Tuesday's smiles

2010-02-02T21:27:00.002+13:00

A holiday booked for January next year! The anticipation is part of the pleasure!

Left-overs for tea - no cooking or thought required!

Egg sandwiches on stunning home-made bread - mmmmm. (Free range eggs from chooks that are so free range I've seen them go in the house - not mine!!)

3BT Saturday

2010-01-30T11:28:00.001+13:00

Oh yes! The Telecom man has been and given me back internet connection! The lads putting the insulation under the house had a bit of an entanglement with the wires and I was consigned to the black hole beyond the web.

We're sorry - have the bill sent to us! Magical words (from the insulation people)

Saturday afternoon and no plans! Bliss!

3BT for today

2010-01-28T11:33:00.004+13:00

I woke up this morning about 6.15, opened the windows, made a cup of tea and went back to bed and listened to the stillness and the birds waking and chattering. Loverly!

A phone call at 8 am. to say the insulation installers would be arriving, which they did at 8:00:34! Must have been right outside! Made them muffins, cos I could (and cos the job is already paid for - sometimes I think if I make muffins and tradesmen sit down for half an hour, I get charged for the extra time rather than if they'd gone back to the depot for their cuppa), the guys up in the ceiling said the smell was awesome up there! I shall be warmer in winter and cooler in summer - nice young men, one reminded me of my son, down to the port-hole in the ear.

The sight of my pruned lemon tree - poor sad unproductive tree, which has been SO fruitful. Hopefully this marks the start of a new burst of life!

Three Beautiful Things

2010-01-27T15:21:00.004+13:00

I've been introduced by Strong-Light to the concept of blogging about three beautiful things each day. It seems such a good idea, and so simple... and yet not, of course. But for me to look and find three beautiful things each day is such a healthy, positive thing to do that I'm going to try it. Can't imagine I'll blog each day, but you never know.

Today I finished a jacket I've been working on. And it looks really good.
Simplicity's Project Runway, 2701.

Okay I wouldn't win prizes for photography, but this is it!

The sun is shining (and it's been raining most of January!)

I cleared a whole list of little annoying things that needed to be done. One was ringing to see if there was a reason why I'd heard nothing about my insulation - paid for on 6 Jan. Apparently they can't work when it's really hot in the roof space (and that would have been.... um.... when exactly?) so they're a "bit behind". But I'm on the list and not forgotten. And I dropped back library books and visited an old lady who wants me to type something for me... All of those things.
So yeah! Hey, I'm smiling! This is working for me!

Battle over - ratatouille anyone?

2010-01-07T17:59:00.002+13:00

This morning it was rat = 4, humans = 0. Tonight it's winner take all, and goodbye rat.
O thank God!
This afternoon after being advised by Rentokil that the poison will kill in three days, and that because rats gorge when there's food and then go without for days, it may be some days before it takes the delicious Rentokil bait. And the possibility of coming home to a house filled with rat stench... well it would be better than coming home to more live rats, but if there was a way to end this thing soon.... and I was inspired to ring BIL Michael.
"Sure" said Michael. "Get a broom, I'll be there in half an hour."
"A broom?" asked I. "What are you going to do?"
"Find it and kill it! Mike's there to help, see you soon."
Why did I not ring Michael earlier!!?
Because the two of them did just that. Shut in the bedroom and surrounded by much hard-to-move furniture, which nevertheless they did, there were the odd calls for "a bucket!" "another broom" "a stick - a stout stick" "a sheet of cardboard" and before long the room was rodent free, the rodent was meeting its ancestors (or not) and the heroes were enjoying a beer and telling the tale.
Bloody brilliant!
After the stress of the last four days, I can hardly believe it's over.
But it is.
The room has had the best vacuuming it's had for years, and everything that can be washed has been, or is being. The traps are still set, just in case, but the poison is back in its tin for next time. Only next time I'll ring Michael straight away!
Whew!

This is battle. Part II

2010-01-07T11:32:00.003+13:00

The wretched beast went on a foray last night, ate half a loaf of bread that mental exhaustion and sleep deprivation had meant I'd left - in a bag - on the bench instead of in the fridge or freezer. However Mike having seen the size of the droppings, the extent of the gnawing at the bread and the extensive collection of fluff pulled from under the fridge (okay, I never claimed to be the world's most fastidious housewife!) has decreed that it is indeed a rat, and after mocking my purchase of the rat trap to a friend yesterday, has now set the damned thing, and put around poison.

I'm too depressed to write more.
I want the wretched thing caught in the trap so I can see it's gone, but it set off a trap without getting caught and is clever enough now to avoid them. So it's unfortunately poison or putting the house on the market and running away. Very tempting.

This is battle

2010-01-06T12:28:00.009+13:00

There I was, Sunday night, reclining on my bed watching the Forsyte Saga on DVD, fan rotating coolingly, when the urge for a biscuit sent me to the pantry. I moved aside a bag of rolled oats (that wouldn't have been there except it was part of my Swine Flu Kit which I decided I could disestablish) only to notice a few oats on the shelf. "Bother" thought I, "must have caught that on something." Bag to the bench, me back with a cloth to clean up, only to have one of those time-standing-still-eyes-meeting moments with - a giant black rat. "ARRRGGGGGHHHHHHHH" I screamed. As you would. The rat leapt into the air and I screamed more and it ferrari-ed round the corner and down the hall. Why the neighbours didn't come to see who was murdering me, I have yet to establish. Such is the impetus of fear, that I carried on cleaning up the shelf before I realised.... the rat went down the hall. There were only two doors open down the hall - the bathroom, and my bedroom. Out with the vacuum cleaner. Never did hall and bathroom and my bedroom get such a stompingly thorough vacuuming. Trouble is, my bed comes down to a mere couple of centimeters off the floor, and there's no way I can vacuum under it. And I do have rather a lot of furniture around the walls, perfect places for vermin to hide.
Finally I decided I was a Big Strong Person and was not going to be intimidated by a ... well I was going to go to bed. Quickly leaping onto the bed to avoid any danger of toe biting or rat clinging to the hem of my nightie, I hit the "play" button and watched Soames and Irene fight their cold fight. And then I flicked it off and bravely went to sleep.
1 a.m. the scritching scratching on the floor just below my head woke me and I grabbed the nearest weapon and with violence turned on the fan. Okay that wasn't going to do it. So with leaps that Nadia Comăneci would have been proud of, my pillow and I were very soon in the spare room with the door firmly shut.

Next morning I was at Mitre 10 Mega as soon as it opened, and I bought a mighty rodent trap. Ahah, you beast, you're for it now. Baited it with peanut butter, planted it on the floor down where I'd heard it, and I waited. And checked. Nothing. And waited. "No no," I was advised, "don't go near. You'll frighten the poor thing." Me frighten IT?! Poor thing? Yeah right. So I pulled the drapes, wished it happy landings, shut the door and left. Hours later I checked. Trap still not sprung. But - no peanut butter on it! Hmmm. Maybe it WAS lighter than I'd thought? Back to Mitre 10 and purchased a mouse trap. Baited both, set and went out.
Several hours later, oh I couldn't bear to look. The mouse trap was sprung! But no vermin caught.... I have to admit at this point that the day had involved much angst on my part, many tears and finally enlisting the help of a friend to actually check the trap...
Anyway he reset both, the big one with cheese (oh for goodness sake, cheese! Isn't that an urban myth? The modern rat eats peanut butter, and mine was one particularly interested in his health - witness it was rolled oats he was into in the first place!) So it was the couch in the lounge I slept on (or didn't) this night, and was sure I'd heard the KACHUNG! quite early in the piece, but couldn't bring myself to check it out. What if the trap had caught him by a leg? Or his tail? What if, even now, he was gnawing his leg off to free himself? Or had already done it? So David came and checked - both traps completely as they'd been left. Oh woe. What now?
"It's still in there," said David, "and he's either very big or very clever. See ya."
And still in there it is.
Last night I decided I'd given quite enough of my life to this beast, and I was sleeping in my own bed. And I did. Until 4 a.m. when the beast decided to gnaw its way out through the wall of my room. Ahah, now I know where you are. Behind the bookshelf! Right!
Back to Mitre 10 and two more traps bought. And now we wait. David's gone on holiday but son in law Mike's been handed the mantle of Official Rat Catcher. Only Mike reckons it's a little mouse. Can't wait for him to be astounded by the size of the beast. Any time now.

A blessed Christmas to you all

2009-12-24T09:33:00.002+13:00

As we prepare to commemorate the birth of Jesus Christ, over 2000 years ago, I wish you all a very blessed time, and a happy and joyful gathering with people you care about.

Surrounding myself with experts

2009-12-18T11:28:00.004+13:00

As I drove home in my newly warranted car this morning, I reflected on my gratitude to have around me trustworthy experts in almost every necessary field.

David Jones Motors keeps my 16 yr old Mitsubishi running well and they don't rip me off. They also explain technical matters simply for me.
Martin Geddes my dentist of the last couple of years is probably the best dentist I've ever had. Newly out from Scotland and speaking with a delightfully reassuring burr, he is proficient and efficient, careful and kind, and as I lay in his chair thingie this week while he refilled and reshaped a previously heavily filled tooth, I was mindful of how different going to the dentist is now from some of my experiences.
Peter Bannister has done stunning ophthalmic work on me, Greg Beacham continues to keep the main body engines working smoothly.
Ron Allen is a builder whose workmanship is beyond "trade" and almost into "art".

I've also had a good experience this year with a plumber, and am on the track of a good odd-job man.

All in all, I'm blessed by these people who are passionate about their work, and whose workmanship deserves loud and long applause.

Librarian - and proud of it!

2009-12-04T07:58:00.003+13:00

I was offered a new job this week. Shoulder-tapped. It’s quite an uplifting experience. Sworn to secrecy, which isn’t, but I’m good at confidentiality.

It pays more than my current job, but not per hour, and the extra money goes absolutely nowhere to justify the hours for the type of job it is.

It’s a management position, and I told him I’d think about it, but the more he talked about what it involved, the more I knew I’d only be putting off the inevitable by not telling him then and there it wasn’t for me.

So I did, and told him I am a librarian to my very soul, which startled him not a little.

And it was his startlement that’s prompted this post.

It’s a reaction I get from time to time, and probably comes from being a professional working in a field in which all the others are experts in a different profession. Of being a librarian amongst teachers. My previous boss would, from time to time, ask me if I’d thought again about being a teacher – I had the ability, he’d say.

But ability isn’t the same as passion. I have the ability to do this job I was just offered too, but O Lord, why would I want to spend my days in that way!

And this gentleman had obviously thought I was just biding my time until I got a better offer, one from him I’d jump at.

On any survey, any form where there are list of occupational classes and you tick or click the one you fit in, there is never one for librarians, and often not even one that we fit. I usually write it down under “other – please specify” in the probably vain hope it may one day end up on a form!

So yes. I’m a librarian. Probably always was, long before I qualified. And it’s not about books on shelves, it’s about providing and facilitating access to entertainment and information, and the pleasure of browsing. For starters.

Where books come to life....

2009-11-26T16:48:00.004+13:00

Just have to share this stunning advertisement, using the opening pages of Maurice Gee's "Going West".

Colenso BBDO produced this for the NZ Book Council, and it would have to be the ad of the decade for me. Watch it here.
Oh and they did it pro bono.
Pretty cool, Colenso.

Thanks Mate! Kia ora! Fa'afetai!

2009-11-22T15:02:00.001+13:00

Here in New Zealand, we don't celebrate Thanksgiving Day. Not that we're not thankful (well maybe we're not) that we were discovered and that shiploads of new settlers arrived. Mind you, as a descendant of those settlers I'm using the "we" in rather a fourth-generational turangawaewae* way, rather than a We-Were-Here-First one.

Any google of Thanksgiving Day will fill the ether with recipes and hints on how to do everything from stuffing a turkey to making turkey handprints (what are they?) to surviving the day with your in-laws and decorating your house in Thanksgiving style (pilgrim hats? turkey feathers?)

So, Abraham Lincoln instituted the day for the United States, and they seem to be obliged now to bake pumpkin pie and - according to many of the blogs - hang out with people they'd rather not, and this close to Christmas it must all seem like they get to do it all again in a month. A practice run perhaps? A chance to do what you like at Christmas because you've already done the duty thing? Sounds exhausting anyway.

I'm sure there are families who love Thanksgiving and do it brilliantly. Which probably doesn't mean "with perfection" but "with love and good humour".

I was going to post a list of things I'm thankful for. But you wouldn't thank me for that.

It's a long list.

So, thank you God for the blessings of family and this land.

*turangawaewae - a place to stand - where one belongs - where one's family comes from

Laws and Tamaki

2009-10-30T17:36:00.008+13:00

What's in the water I wonder? I haven't had so much amusement from the news for ages as I have in the last 24 hours. On one hand we have Brian Tamaki, the self-anointed bishop of Destiny Church, appointing 700 men of his congregation as "spiritual sons" who paid $300 each to swear a Covenant Oath which was "binding, enduring and unbreakable" to defend Tamaki against criticism and in token of which they now wear covenant rings. All of which smacks of Hitler's hold over his henchmen in the early days or of cult leaders whose followers followed to their own graves. Destiny's not quite "ruling the country in four years" as Mr Tamaki prophesied in 2004, so I guess he's getting a bit desperate that God isn't listening to him and he's being forced to take things into his own hands.

And on the other hand we have Michael Laws suggesting that certain couples that form "the underclass" be sterilised to stop child abuse. He obviously doesn't realise that abuse happens in all sorts of households all over the country. Naturally he's not the poster boy at the moment for the civil rights people.
But it's all a bit of amusement for now, so long as neither of these fellows gains too big a following and too much traction.
At the moment, it proves we live in a fairly liberally minded country, that a mayor can say what Laws has, and that a chap who fancies himself as - well as God really, can have their time on the TV news and polarise people for a while.

If I thought either of them was likely to do more damage than they're doing, I'd be the first one protesting. But for now, crikey, there's little enough to laugh at in the news!

How can I keep from singing?

2009-10-28T17:50:00.004+13:00

As previously posted, the G&T form filling exercise gave me the direction I needed, and last night I turned up at the Civic Choir rehearsal. Here they were, must have been the best part of 100 people, three weeks out from a performance of Dvorak's Mass, and I was given the music, introduced to the other altos and invited to join in. Now that's inclusiveness! Two and a half hours later (solid work this, no chit chat!) I knew I'd found a group I would be happy working with, and graciously declined their invitation to join their performance, but will certainly be back in January. I have only a little experience of choral singing, and enjoy the result and the challenge. So much easier than playing the piano! And although fairly unacquainted with Dvorak's music, being Catholic I found the words and format of his Mass completely familiar and effortless.
January. It's in my diary.
Handel's Messiah is on their programme for next year, I SO want to be part of that!

G & T

2009-10-21T17:09:00.009+13:00

At work we've been asked to complete a questionnaire about the work we do with Gifted & Talented Students (capitals because it's a category), and about our own gifts and talents so that we may be used to best advantage (of the school and the G&Ts). I've swung from being inclined to leave the section of my own gs&ts blank, or to attach an extra page and give full rein to them.

I read poetry.
A talent? Maybe. A gift certainly.
To take pleasure in word-pictures, and in the words themselves. The juxtaposition of them. (What a delicious word that is!)
And I have a collection of several hundred poetry books. No talent there, but they are gift to me. These shelves of richness also mean I've got a good chance of finding that obscure poem you wanted. Mind you, I could do it more quickly on google, but without the luscious pleasure of choosing a volume - not to be rushed, this - and checking the index. I adore indices! Full, rich, accurate lists with subentries! So I look along the shelves. . . I'm sitting on the floor as my poetry fills low shelves in that ridiculous part of the wall under the windows, and I'm revisiting old friends, and some that seem like strangers cos I've forgotten that I own them. Mostly they're from second hand book sales and galas, but there are some opulent brand new volumes, worth every dollar of their brand new price, or gifts from people who love me. And an hour or so later I'm moving stiffly, surrounded by books I've taken from their place, and vaguely wondering what it was I was doing before I started this quest....
I doubt this is what They meant.

I write.
Again, not talent, but gift.
Although I HAVE been published, and paid for it. Twice! Probably doesn't qualify me as talented though.
But writing is as breathing to me - necessary, automatic, life-giving.
I've already been asked to run a writing group, and They don't actually know that I write. I might put that down. "writing".

I cook. Sometimes with amazing talent. Sometimes much less so.
Likewise I sew.
I have no intention of running a cooking or sewing group.
It's probably not what They envisage G&T students should be doing anyway.
Special Needs kids often cook at our school. Don't know whether they sew.

And for all that I sing, and sometimes in public, I doubt They'd want me for that either. There are better than me. But I sing as I write, with joy and because it's part of what makes me Me.

I have a talent for getting lost.
Ahh this could be useful. Not the getting lost, but I have had to teach myself coping strategies for the times I find myself somewhere alien with absolutely no idea of the relationship between where I am and where I was or where I want to be. I could share coping skills.
Somehow I can't see that appealing either.

Diabolical sudoku? I could teach logic skills, predictive deductions....

I did have fun with the Kids' Lit Quiz team earlier this year - those kids were such hungry readers, with prodigious memories of everything they'd ever read! That was fun. I'll do that again!

It's all been a rather interesting exercise. Not on account of the G&Ts, but because I really need to get out and do something with other people. For months I've pondered the possibilities. But now I see where I might start.
There's a Poetry at the Pub on a Monday night. That's a possibility. Going on my own could be a challenge, to something like that. Or am I making excuses again?
And apparently we have an "all-comers civic choir"! From the website, "choir" isn't as classical or as boring as it sounds. They seem to have a very eclectic repertoire. They'd need to - I mean, how much enthusiasm can one have for "I love to go a-wandering along the mountain track"?
That's on a Tuesday night.
I might just go along next week.

And as for the G&T form, oh I'll put something.

The Agony and the Ecstasy

2009-09-14T16:46:00.009+12:00

In the last month, two of my daughters have had babies. In fact in the last couple of years, I’ve amassed a wonderful five grandchildren! These precious little beings are such a joy to everyone who meets them, if at times a worry to their parents.

I can relate cute stories of what each of them did or said or how they reacted, and I frequently do, stopping only when the eyes of my listener glaze over and I realise they’ve heard enough to know I adore my babies!

I’ve earned the right to bore people. Because the hardest, most worrying time of all, is having your daughter in labour. I think I hold my breath for the entire duration, from the moment I realise they’re having early symptoms until I know both she and the babe are safe. It’s scary stuff. This daughter, this precious babe of my own, is roller-coasting into a new life of her own, one with yet another new life alongside hers. There is so much that can go wrong. And yet, marvellously, so often, it all goes so very right - the difficult hurdles are cleared, the dangerous traps are avoided, and the less than perfect outcomes are repaired.

And Nana has another new little baby to love.

The two new grandbabies

Muslim woman barred from Hastings Court... Part 2

2009-09-04T17:18:00.004+12:00

I knew there would be fallout, but in my naivety, I didn't expect it to be as it has been.
Letters and texts to the Editor in the HB Today have easily fallen four-to-one in favour of "Good on you Judge" and more stupidly "Go back to where you came from" to Ms Ali.
Stupidly, because Ms Ali is a New Zealand Maori who is a Muslim.
Not all Muslims are refugees!! And Muslim is a religion not a country!
Sigh.
So sad to be living among such ignorant, bigoted people who operate in George Bush's climate of fear.
Judge Rea said he misinterpreted the reason for the wearing of the hijab - he thought it was a protest. Heaven preserve us all.
I am told by a senior official of the Courts that the Judge had had a particularly hard day, and one can have some sympathy with that, but I think it's at times of stress that one's personal prejudices leak out. And unfortunately someone of his standing taking such action has given the locals a figurehead to attach their prejudices to, and given them courage to race into print applauding his "stand" which he now declares a mistake.
Not a good week for racial conciliation.

Judge bars Muslim woman from Hastings Court because she wears headscarf

2009-09-02T17:38:00.005+12:00

I am appalled, gobsmacked and outraged.
In Hastings today - Hastings, Hawkes Bay, New Zealand - a judge barred a local Hastings woman from entering the courtroom because she was wearing her Hijab or headscarf.
As you can see, this is not a burqa or a yashmak, this is a hijab, not covering her face, which is the problem with hoodies which are banned in courts.
This happened today, in Hastings. I am totally appalled.
As an aside, for once the local paper, Hawkes Bay Today, had an appropriate front page. Far too often it's silly local stories that are trite - even embarrassingly so. Today, the editor recognised the importance of this story and gave it the prominence it deserves.
I await the fallout. Judge Rea made a major error of judgement.
Ms Yasmeen Ali, picture aboved, was, by the way, supporting a family member and was not on trial.

Looking after myself

2009-08-29T18:01:00.004+12:00

A couple of years ago, circumstances were such that people gathered around in support, and when leaving, most of them would hug me and say "look after yourself, won't you". I knew what they meant. It's what you say when you care and don't know what to say.

For the next year or so in dark times, "look after yourself" seemed a kind of useless black joke.
"Yeah right!" I'd think. "And how do I do that? And why should I bother? And...." well you get the picture. Worse than useless, those words seemed patronising and a way for others to go back to their own comfy lives mistakenly feeling they'd done something useful.

Ah but now I see. Now those words mean something quite different. Now "look after yourself" means "do first the thing that is about you". So the veges wait while I put on a jersey. The folding waits while I make a cup of tea. I can sit in the sun with a book until I feel like doing something else.
So many people telling me to look after myself has given me permission to do just that.

So if you were one of them, thank you.
I am looking after myself.

Paula Bennett - Playing the Man not the Ball...

2009-07-29T15:54:00.003+12:00

I had such hopes for Paula Bennett.
I thought she’d bring a bit of left-wing balance to the National Government – but she’s displaying every sign of having used her solo Mum status to gain votes - “I understand you! I too was on the DPB! I owe my current circumstances to the benefit and the social policies of this country!” – only to stamp on the very people she wooed a few short months ago.

The basic story is that two women complained how hard it was to obtain training so that they were employable and no longer needed the benefit, now that the Training Incentive Allowance has been cut. Ms Bennett decided to show the world that life was actually not so tough for these women by publicising the amount they receive as their legal entitlement to State support. The points concerning the Privacy Act are very well made by Strong Light here.

My concern is that Ms Bennett didn’t seem to realise that in her position, she can’t whack someone with personal details of their own life just because they criticised a decision that she is responsible for. Or that it’s not a nice thing for anyone to do in any circumstances. It’s not how you make friends, it’s not how you get yourself up the ladder. Hasn’t she heard of subtlety?!

I would imagine she’ll be facing a complaint and investigation by the Privacy Commissioner. (Maybe when she finds herself once more out of a job she might consider taking some training in the art of debate.)
Based on her responses so far, her defence is likely to be that it was the fault of the women she has attacked, that they started it, they swung the handbag first.
Yep, she may well plead provocation.

Folic Acid - more questions than answers

2009-07-18T12:45:00.025+12:00

Faster! Cheaper! Greater profits!
Mass production and the industrialisation of our food industry have meant that during processing, certain vitamins, minerals and other elements that occur naturally, are removed, damaged or diminished. Folate is such a one, in the production of flour. We all - not just women of child-bearing age - need more folate than most of us are currently getting.
So here we are at the point at which the question being asked is, do we fortify our bread with synthetic folate - (folic acid)?

I have a deep-seated distrust of synthetic additives, and similarly of the use of antibiotics in the food industry. Antibiotics have been used in meat, milk and egg production in New Zealand since government approval in the 1960s.

Coincidentally or not, the beginning of the explosion in our rates of cancer and hyperactivity bears an uncanny relationship to the decades in which synthetic colourings, flavourings, antibiotics and other additives started being widely used in our food.
For instance, the coal-tar derived dye tartrazine (E102) was diverted from the textile industry to the food industry (ever wondered why orange fizzy stains your carpet?) and almost immediately was indicated in a previously unrecognised condition, hyperactivity, along with increased urticarea and a raft of other health issues. (Oh while we’re at it, let’s add E102 to antibiotics! What about giving amoxicillin a banana flavour and colour!) This was in the late 1950s, but it's still being used in food!

We can't all grow our own food. We rely on the producers, processors and supervisory agencies to provide us with a healthy product. But we would be naive to think that all of them have only our best interests at heart.

So my as yet unanswered questions are:

Is folic acid, in the doses in which it will be used in bread, guaranteed safe long term? The studies that showed there was some increase in the rates of colon and prostate cancer seem to be overshadowed by new studies showing there is no risk. Pardon my scepticism but for the manufacturers of the folic acid additive, that must have been such an economically well-timed announcement.
Is there no way in which processing could be done to protect the naturally occurring folate in wheat and other staples?
There is no mention of any benefits being derived to pregnant women who eat fewer than 11 slices a day. Are there any? Does eating three slices, for instance, confer some - though milder - protection against neural tube defects?

In the absence of answers, I'd prefer not to have the synthetic folic acid added to all bread.

The Smacking Referendum

2009-07-11T09:57:00.016+12:00

I smacked my children. When they were disobedient or naughty, as one of a raft of disciplinary techniques, they sometimes got a smack. Twenty, thirty years ago, when I was bringing up children, this was the acceptable way of training a child. It was more acceptable to have a child screaming in the supermarket because their tantrum had been dealt with by a smack, than it was to have the mother ignoring the tantrum and walking away, refusing to give the child the attention they demanded. I know this, because I walked away from any of my children who threw tantrums, public places or not. And my reaction to my child's tantrum drew me the opprobrious looks of others.

In 2007 the Crimes Act was amended so that "parental discipline" couldn't be used as a defence against assault. And now it's 2009 and we're asked again whether a smack should be a crime.

It seems that to those trying to reduce the amount of violence in this country, it has appeared an obvious place to start.
To one of my age and experience, it's confusing. And the confusion requires either a repudiation of the "anti-smacking brigade", an admission that what was normal 20 years ago was wrong, or it requires reflection to discover a new truth.

There are many facets to physical punishment of a child.
In the time and culture in which smacking was the main accepted means of showing who was the one in control, it was for the most part not about abuse. (Here I mean the abuse which has more in common with torture than with loving correction.) It was about discipline, about training, about control. And I make no apology for suggesting that a parent should actually act like the adult in the relationship, and be in control.

But what if that smack because a child constantly disobeyed, pocketed sweets in the supermarket and didn't show any form of understanding that this was wrong - what if that smack - despite taking the child back to apologise and give the sweets back - what if that smack was administered again and again out of desperation and a sense of failure to have taught this child the evils of stealing, and with a sense of a criminal future looming? What if that smack on a Tuesday made it easier to smack again on a Wednesday, and in a moment of anger or resentment or stress - maybe having nothing to do with this particular child at this particular moment - what if that smack turns into something more?

Maybe if the parent has never smacked the child, the possibility of the "something more" just doesn't happen?

But I don't think that outlawing smacking will do a huge amount to stem the real abuse of children in this country.

However I do think there are better ways to discipline a child.

For children who grew up in a culture in which discipline = smacking and who are now the parents of children themselves, a new way of helping a child become the person he or she was born to be, may not be obvious.

The discipline void left by outlawing smacking must be filled with education and showing a new way forward.
I haven't seen this. I haven't seen the info-mercials in our lounge every night showing a better way. Where are they?

I think the handling of the whole "let's not smack children any more" movement has been sadly lacking in common sense. This was a matter that should have started off, not in the halls of power and law, but in our homes. The country is polarised by the repeal of the old Section 59 of the Crimes Act and its replacement with a new Section 59 not because of the effect of it, but because of the way it was handled. In effect, the changing of the law, without the education of the people, is as heavy handed as the behaviour it was designed to stop.

And where has the education been since the amended law was passed?
I don't believe all the dissension over the "anti-smacking law" is because parents want to smack their children, but because they have been dumped on from a great height (Parliament) with a law that tells them they have been wrong - criminally wrong - all these years, and yet they have not been given a plan for how to safely and correctly discipline their children now.
If the people had been trusted with the information about the negative aspects of smacking, shown alternative ways, been part of a campaign to change behaviour which was THEN enshrined in law, this referendum wouldn't be happening.

There are indeed better ways of training a child than using force.
But I don't think a well timed and placed smack as part of parental correction should be a criminal offence.

EXQUISITE CORPSE

2009-07-09T08:27:00.001+12:00

This entry is part of an on-line exquisite corpse – a short story told in 10 instalments by 10 different authors. My 250 word instalment is below; if you’re interested in writing the next part, scroll down to the bottom of this post for details on how this all works…

PART 9

...her tingling hand, and resisting the urge to slap him again, Dianne forged ahead through the undergrowth. Peter watched her go, watched her put distance between them.

It wasn't over yet, as she would soon realise.
He didn't give up that easily.

The quad bikes were where they'd left them. Dianne jumped on one, gunning it into action, and took off.

Somewhere up ahead in the cabin were Bruce and his antiques. Doctoring his drink had been such a good idea. He didn't know what day it was most of the time, didn't notice things around him disappearing. But now she was ready for the big payoff. No more small stuff, she wanted the lot. And she was going to get it.

And Peter wasn't part of the equation.

Panting and tripping, he stumbled over the uneven ground, the handprint on his face livid and stinging. Thank God the bikes weren't far away.

Bloody Bruce, the drink made him so reliably unreliable. Anything could have gone wrong - heaven knows what they'd find when they got there. All he could think of was Bruce, reclusive old guy up there all by himself all these years ...

Suddenly he was deafened by an explosion as Dianne and the quad erupted into a fireball of burning metal.

He nodded, satisfied, as again he fingered the remote controls on his belt.

Another touch, and ahead in the cabin, the cold metallic finger of steel slowly retracted from Bruce's stomach as the . . .

-------------------------------

This is part 9 of 10. You can find the other instalments here (but DON’T DO THIS YET if you want to join in):

1. www.sleep-dep.blogspot.com (26 June 2009)
2. www.multi-dimensional.blogspot.com (27 June 2009)
3. www.deb-onair.blogspot.com (29 June 2009)
4. www.additiverich.com/morgue/ (1 July 2009)
5. www.jennitalula.wordpress.com (1 July 2009)
6. http://podagogue.blogspot.com (2 July 2009)
7. http://neil-colquhoun.blogspot.com (2 July 2009)
8. www.ktrmc.blogspot.com (7th July 2009)
9. http://mariewg.blogspot.com (9 July 2009)
10. http://jeffforgotthechocolate.blogspot.com/2009/07/exquisite-corpse.html

WANT TO READ IT? Jump back to the previous entries using the links above.

WANT TO JOIN IN? This exquisite corpse operates on a first-come, first-served basis. If you want to write the next installment, FOLLOW THESE INSTRUCTIONS:

1.IMPORTANT – Don’t read any of the previous entries! Read only the one you see here.

2.ALSO IMPORTANT – Post a comment here, saying “I claim the next entry”, followed by the URL/web address of your blog. If you don’t do this, we’ll never know where to find you.

3.Copy the text of this blog entry into a new post on your blog, but DELETE THE CHAPTER and write your own as the next installment. Start with the chapter number as I’ve done here, and start exactly where the last chapter left off (in mid-sentence if necessary).

4.Your entry should be EXACTLY 250 words long, unless you are writing chapter 10, in which case you must bring the story to a conclusion in 250 words or less.

5.At the end of the chapter, where the text reads: “This is part X of 10″, change this to the number of your chapter.

6.Add the URL/web address of your blog and today’s date onto the list below that, so people reading later entries can jump back to your chapter.

7.Finish your chapter and post it within 24 hours of claiming your place. There – it’s freaking easy! You can go back and read the rest of the story now.

8.IF YOU’VE JUST FINISHED ENTRY #10 and finished the story, DELETE THESE INSTRUCTIONS from the bottom of your post – they’ll just confuse people. ALSO, let CG know by posting a comment on the first entry (on www.sleep-dep.blogspot.com), or sending him an email on squid.mohawk@gmail.com. CG will assemble a full version and send it round to all of the contributors.